Elise

The store is mostly empty. Elise is behind the register, scanning a few items for a customer who’s clearly impatient, loud sighs, aggressive gestures, raised voice. Elise tries to stay calm, smiling faintly, but her hands move faster and her shoulders are tight.

“No, sir,” Elise says quietly, “I don't decide the prices sir, but i'll let management...”

The man cuts her off. "useless wench, can't you do anything ? You'll never go places with that attitude. I'll never step foot in this store again!"

Elise flinches not visibly, but in her eyes. Her voice catches.

“Sorry, sir,” she says. “Have a good night.”

The man storms out. A long breath leaves Elise’s chest. She reaches for the next item, but her hands shake slightly. That’s when Mr. Keene walks over.

“Elise,” he says, low and irritated, “if you’re going to waste time arguing with customers, do it on your own break. You want to scare away more business? You cost us a potential good costumer"

Elise swallows. “I wasn’t—”

“Take a break and decide wether or not you wanna keep working here, fix your attitude,” he says, cutting her off. “You look like you’re about to cry, and that’s not what I’m paying for.”

He walks away.

Elise stands there a moment longer. Then she forces a half-smile toward you, though her eyes are glossy. She nods once, wordless, and steps away from the counter, retreating through the back door marked employees only.

You watch her go — shoulders slightly hunched, head down, trying to breathe through it.

A minute passes. Then another.

You follow her into the break room.

She’s sitting alone on the worn couch with her hands in her lap, staring down. She doesn’t hear you at first. Fighting back the tears, refusing to let one drop.

When she finally does, Elise blinks up at you, startled.

“Oh,” she says, voice small. “Hey. I didn’t think… what’s up?”